The Daughter of Turul
by Shezners
Summary: All at once, the memories of the Great War rushed back to her, the loss of her pride, her land, her Austria. Once again, she was side by side with Germany, whether she wanted to be or not. And this was another war she could not afford to lose.
1. Chapter 1

(Hello, hello, Hetalia fans! Welcome to my first-ever fanfiction! I'm always open to critiques about writing, and if I screwed up on some history, please let me know. The last thing I want to do is fudge up my facts. I'll have a few notes at the end of the fic, so you readers will (hopefully) learn a little something about Hungary.)

* * *

The Daughter of Turul*

By Shezners

An anxious woman paced the polished halls of a grand government building, shooting nervous glances at a pair of ornate double doors. She absentmindedly brushed her light brown hair and fidgeted with her sage green dress as she waited for the important meeting to end. She had been invited inside to watch the proceedings, but she declined. She feared she would rise up and strike someone out of anger, as she was prone to do, and apparently, the men shared her feelings, so she was left outside in the hall to pace and worry as she pleased. Several times, she had tried to sneak up to the door and listen, but the voices were only a vague rumble through the wood, like stormy waves. Finally, she plopped herself gracelessly in a chair and twirled her hair around her slender fingers, pondering how she had gotten herself into this mess.

It had started, she decided, with the disastrous end of the Great War. After she had lost the war and her husband, Austria, she had struggled to make ends meet. And then America (God, that _stupid_ America) had gotten everyone into the giant mess that was the Great Depression. Shrunken and battered, Hungary did whatever she could to make ends meet. And that's when Germany stepped in.

Hungary hadn't seen Germany since the end of the Great War, when he was a shamed and disheveled shell of his former self. When he reappeared before her, it was like he had been born again. His blond hair was slicked back neatly and his blue eyes shone once again with ambition, the ambition of spreading his new philosophy that had gotten him back on his feet, a word that seemed to ring with hope whenever he spoke it – the word _Nazism_. His booming voice spoke of opportunity and a new rise to power. Hungary was glad to regain her old friend and eagerly engaged in trade with him, to talk with him, to share ideas and to regain her lost hope. But something was different. There was a steely edge to his words and actions now, and a sharp bitterness soured the air around him. Even when he had helped her to regain lost lands* ("It's the least I could do for an old ally!" he had laughed), she still had the sinking feeling that something was off. When she asked him what had changed since the end of the Great War, he smiled a smile that could have stopped her heart and said, "I got a new boss."

Suddenly, the old wooden door creaked open, shaking Hungary from her reverie. She stood as Prime Minister Pál Teleki entered the hall, a look of exhausted resignation on his face. She rushed toward the old man, eager for news, but then stopped, reading the answer on his face. When he turned to look towards, he tried to shift his expression to one of calm and serenity, but to no avail. Hungary already knew his true feelings.

Hungary thought she saw Teleki tremble as he began to speak. "_Bocsánat*_, Hungary" Teleki murmured, "There was nothing I could do. There's no way we could face Germany's might. There's no…"

He stopped, overcome by the weight of his decision. Hungary stepped forward to embrace the elderly leader, but he stopped her and straightened his back, refusing to let his beloved country see him so distraught. She wanted to be of comfort to her prime minister, but disappointment and curiosity burned in her chest until she was finally provoked to ask,

"So the Regent, he…changed his mind?"

Teleki let loose a dry, humorless laugh and answered, "You know what's funny? Horthy* told me thirty-four times that he would never make war for foreign interests, and now he has changed his mind.* We are truly Axis now, and there is no turning back."

As she listened to her master, her heart sank beneath her feet. All at once, the memories of the Great War rushed back to her, the loss of her pride, her land, her Austria. Once again, she was side by side with Germany, whether she wanted to be or not. And this was another war she could not afford to lose.

* * *

Notes

Turul – A mythological bird that plays an important role in the myths of the Magyars (Hungarians). It resembles a large bird of prey, like a falcon

The Vienna Awards – Germany and Italy both helped to enforce claims made by Hungary to regain land lost in the Treaty of Trianon

_Bocsánat – _"I'm sorry"

Miklós Horthy – Regent of Hungary during most of World War II

*This is a supposedly a real quote from Teleki himself, but feel free to dispute me on that.

(So, did you like it? Hate it? Wanna throw me off a cliff? Send me a review! I'm happy to read what you have to say. I may continue this story, so be on the lookout for a chapter 2!)


	2. Chapter 2

The Daughter of Turul

By Shezners

Chapter 2

Hungary awoke to a dull knocking on her door. Grumbling, she lurched out of bed and shuffled her way towards the front door, wondering who in their right mind was waking her up so early. She yank open the door and shouted a very unfriendly "WHAT?" to the poor unsuspecting servant outside.

After gawking at the angry country for a moment, the young man soon composed himself and stammered, "M-miss H-hungary, Regent H-horthy would like to see you a-as soon as p-possible." With his message dutifully delivered, the man bolted and into the street, as far away from the irritable country as possible. Hungary took no notice of his hasty retreat. Her mind was already deep in thought. What could Horthy possibly need to tell her? What ever it was, she knew it couldn't be good news.

* * *

Hungary stood in front of the door to Miklós Horthy's office with a dark expression on her face. She was already cross with Horthy about other matters, and she didn't particularly want to deal with him now, so early in the morning. She still blamed him for the fact that Germany was marching his way through _her_ land, stomping on _her_ fields and frightening _her _children. However, there was no point in stalling. She simply had to get this little meeting out of the way, and then go about her business. She banged open the doors in her usual confidant style and was about to demand an explanation, when she was stopped dead in her tracks.

Miklós stood in front of his desk, his face the color of the still-glowing ashes in the fireplace that must have been burning all night. He silently pushed a letter toward her with a trembling hand. She stare at him, puzzled at his transformation from the strong, hardy man she knew to the man that stood before her. He seemed much older than when she saw him last. Perhaps it was the light that made him grayer. Perhaps it was the size of the room that made him smaller. And perhaps it was the release of his weighty news, the news that Pál Teleki had committed suicide, which made him lighter, so when Hungary struck him, she barely heard a sound as he hit the ground.

When she stormed away from the room, out into the street and into the rain, she unclenched her shaking fist, and straightened out Teleki's suicide letter. The words were smudged and red due to the tears in her eyes and the rage in her heart, but the last few sentences struck her like a brand and remained burned into her heart for years and years to come.

"We will become body-snatchers! A nation of trash. I did not hold you back. I am guilty."*

* * *

Rain streamed from the sky on a late spring afternoon. Hungary remembered the times would revel in this weather, reading a book she had borrowed from Germany, listening to Austria playing his piano or simply gazing out of the window, watching the rain fall and replenish her land. Now, however, the rain did not stand for peace, for love, or for renewal, as it did for her then. It stood for tragedy, for ill alliances and for more death and sorrow to come.

Hungary's war had truly begun.

She watched her troops practice for battle on a soaked field outside of Budapest. As they marched in the downpour, she looked on with a mixture of affection, pride, and dread. Oh, how wonderful her young men were! They were so full of life and vigor, as most young men were. But in hers, Hungary saw something more. She saw the pride and strength of the Huns*. She saw the swiftness of a falcon and the greatness of Attila. She saw the blood of the famous merciless horsemen running through their veins, though she feared that someday soon she would see that very same blood running out onto a damp, cold battlefield. Soon they would be sent to face Russia*, the violent, cruel giant of the frigid East. She could already see the hardships they would face, the battles they would fight, and the hundreds that would die.

One of the soldiers turned and look towards her, beaming, as if looking for approval for his achievement. She smiled back, confidant and loving, and the rain continued to fall, hiding the tears that fell from her eyes.

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Notes

*Pál Teleki committed suicide on April 3rd, 1941 because he was horrified with Hungary's involved with the Axis powers and the attack on Yugoslavia

*Real quote from Teleki's suicide letter (source: )

*The Magyars are thought to be decedents of the Huns, hence the references to the falcons, Attila, etc.

*Hungarian soldiers became a part of Operation Barbarossa, the disastrous German invasion of the USSR

(So, did you love it? Hate it? Want to throw me off a cliff? Leave me a review! I really appreciate feedback, good or bad, so I know what I'm doing wrong and what I'm doing right. Chapter 3 will deal with the armistice with Russia, and I know how much you guys love Russia, so stay tuned!)


	3. Chapter 3

The Daughter of Turul

By Shezners

Chapter 3

"No…please…"

Hungary tossed and turned in her bed, her movements fueled by horrid nightmares of war, nightmares that had turned to reality. The sound of gunshots ricocheted through her subconscious as she struggled to calm herself. Her troops fought bravely in the Soviet Union, but it seemed as though bravery was not enough. They had suffered terribly at the Battle of Stalingrad* and the Don River, and Hungary, fearing her Second Army would soon cease to exist, withdrew her troops from Russia's land. Now she had to balance doing what was best for her country and keeping Germany and his boss happy.

She rose that morning in foul spirits, feeling as though she had run a marathon while still in bed. She washed and dressed sluggishly, weighed down by her insomnia and the pain of her lost troops. She paced around her barren room for a moment, too nervous to eat and too wound up to go back to bed. Thoughts raced through her head a mile a minute, competing for her attention. She groaned loudly as she flopped into a chair. She was used to being more impulsive than this, but now she couldn't afford to make any major mistakes. Finally, she decided to give one of the Allies a call. Her government had been secretly negotiating with America and England for a while now, but Hungary was anxious to see how the negotiations were going for her self.

She dialed England's number and waited impatiently for him to pick up the phone. She had settled on called the bushy-browed commander because he was much easier to deal with than the self-proclaim 'hero' America; plus, she was still a bit upset with Alfred about the whole 'Depression' incident. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard someone pick up the phone, and then froze when she heard the sound of the voice on the other line.

"Guten Morgen, mein Verräter."*

This was not England.

"Germany!" Hungary cried, still reeling from shock, "How…how did you…"

"Really, Hungary" Germany sighed, "You don't give me enough credit. Of course I knew about your negotiations. Needless to say, I'm very disappointed in you, Hungary. You have broken my sacred trust, and for that, you must be punished."

Hungary's heart nearly stopped.

"P-punished?" she asked, her voice wavering despite her best efforts to control it.

"Yes, Hungary, punished." She could hear the ice in his voice that seemed creep a thousand miles through the wires and rest in her bones. "You see, I'd feared for some time that you'd back out and it seems as though my suspicions have been confirmed. I'd never dreamed that you'd try to take the coward's way out…"

"I'M NO COWARD!" Hungary shouted as rage welled up inside her chest, banging her fist against the desk. She fought her hardest to at least keep the tears out of her voice, since they had already conquered her eyes. "How could you possibly know what I've lost so far? You're asking for something I simply can't give you!"

"What is it that you can't give me, Hungary?" Germany retorted, "You can't give me your troops, I know, but you can at least give me your support! I need your support, Hungary, I need your _trust_! Why can you give me at least that?"

For a moment, Hungary thought she heard his voice waver, but dismissed it as a flaw in the connection. She took a deep breath, hardened her resolve, and gave him his answer.

"Because you are not who you used to be. I can never trust someone I do not know."

This answer seemed to silence him. Finally, after the seemingly eternal pause was over, he spoke.

"If you won't help me on your own, I shall make you help me." Germany spoke in a deadpan voice. "My troops will arrive soon, and I expect them to be welcomed with open arms."*

At first, Hungary was about to protest violently, but then she swallowed her outrage, and replied, "Fine, then, do as you will."

There was another silence, and just as Hungary was about to hang up, Germany said, "You know, you used to be…so very strong."

Another silence.

"So were you."

* * *

Notes

*Battle of Stalingrad – In January of 1943, German and Hungarian troops attempt to take the Russian city of Stalingrad, but are defeated by Russian forces in a huge counterattack. 40,000 Hungarian soldiers were killed, with another 70,000 injured.

* Guten Morgen, mein Verräter – "Good morning, my traitor."

* When Germany suspected Hungary of trying to make a seperate peace, German troops occupied Hungary and forced Hungary to increase war support.

* * *

(So, did you love it? Hate it? Want to throw me off a cliff? Leave me a review! I really appreciate feedback, good or bad, so I know what I'm doing wrong and what I'm doing right. Well, I did say the next chapter would deal with Russia, but I recently found out about the German occupation, so I wanted to do something about that first. Also, for all you historically-driven Hetalians (or those who just want to write somewhat accurate fanfiction), I recommend the site . It's a source that has some ties with the government, so I'm betting it's pretty reliable. Plus, it's got oodles of info on a ton of countries. So if Wikipedia isn't your thing, I'd give it a look. Next chapter will deal with Russia, I promise!)


	4. Chapter 4

The Daughter of Turul

By Shezners

Chapter 4

The winter chill bit into Hungary's bones as she waited in the ornate hall. The building was well protected from the weather, but the chill came not from the wind, but from the frigid atmosphere. Things had gone from bad to worse after Germany found out about her negotiations. He made good on his promise to send in his troops, and within a few short weeks, German soldiers stood rigidly on every corner. Her Prime Minister had fled, leaving Germany free to install the man of his choosing, who happened to be (of course) a fanatic pro-German*.

Now she was under constant surveillance, and she felt like a prisoner in her own lands. She hated her position, she hated how she felt so weak, she hated how things were going out of control, but she tried not to let her hate get the best of her. She needed to concentrate on her plan. It was nearly a hopeless venture, but it was the only hope she had. The receptionist opened the door, and beckoned Hungary inside the office. "The Fatherland will see you now."

Germany stared coolly at Hungary as she walked into the room. She sat stiffly in the mahogany chair in front of the desk and return Germany's stare, equally cool. Germany cleared his throat.

"Well, Hungary, what is it that you wanted to see me about?" he asked, eyeing her for any signs of discomfort.

Hungary answered him with confidence, determined not to let him see through her. "I am planning a trip to the eastern countryside for a little vacation. I hope you find nothing wrong with this."

Apparently he did. Germany stared at Hungary again, not with his usual cool mask, but with a look of utter disbelief.

"Vacation? Have you gone mad? We're in the middle of a war, for God's sakes! Why on earth would you take a vacation now?"

Hungary stared him straight in the eye, and said, "_You_ are in the middle of a war, not I. I had wished to stay out of this fray, but you shoved and bullied me into it, so I have no choice. And now you'll keep me from a short week of relaxation. Really, you are the absolute opposite of a gentleman." She had decided to play the 'irritated big sister' card, and hoped to God that it would work.

Germany snorted, "There's no time for gentlemen in war. We must be brutal, hard and fast. Also, I'm still expecting more aid from…"

Hungary interrupted him. "Yes, yes," she sighed, "You will have your aid. Really, Germany, you're going to wring us dry with all your demands. When I am a withered old crone stooped over with fatigue, I shall find the strength to bash out your brains with my frying pan." Germany coughed and smirked at her.

"I'm rather fond of my brains, and I would love to keep them inside my head as they should be. But I'm still not convinced of your need for a vacation."

Hungary's heart sank. For a moment, she felt the warmth of old time radiate from her former friend. But the iron curtain had been drawn back in place, and she was left staring at a stranger once more. Hungary sighed. It was time to pull out her secret weapon. It would be cruel and completely uncalled for (not to mention an all-around dirty tactic), but she could not let hope escape her so easily.

"If you must know," she sniffed, "I have womanly needs to attend to."

And there you have it. Germany blanched magnificently and began to fidget. Never mind that he had no idea what these "womanly needs" were, the mere mention of it was enough to make him squirm like a threatened caterpillar.

"Um…er…" he stammered, "Couldn't you take care of this inside the city?"

Hungary gasped, "With all these soldiers breathing down my neck. God, no! It's best for me to take care of such matters far from here I assure you."

Germany would not be defeated so easily. He countered, "Well, we can possibly stop war just so you can attend to your…ah, 'needs.'"

Hungary fixed him with a glare that could melt lead. "I'm not asking to stop your silly war, Germany, I'm asking you to take the machine gun out your rear, mind your own business and leave me to my devices! Are you so paranoid that you won't even allow this poor woman to take a bit of rest and attend to the demands of her fragile, female frame?"

Germany shrunk away from Hungary and all her frightening, fragile female glory. He was reminded of the days when Hungary was daring, boisterous, strong enough to knock your brains out with a frying pan, and ruthless enough to do so.

Finally, Germany relented, but not before giving her a long look and asking, "Can I trust you?"

Hungary returned his gaze, then left the room without saying a word. In that moment she almost felt sorry for deceiving her old friend.

Almost.

Fat, misshapen snowflakes fell silently onto the wet and dirty ground. Evening was falling, and shadows stretched out on the filthy snow, creating macabre shapes on the path. Hungary's boots sloshed through the muddy slush as she made her way to the secret meeting place. She marched forward towards her destination like a steam engine, her breath coming out in puffs of white smoke. Though she dreaded her meeting more and more with each step, it could not be avoided. To face Germany, she had to face an even greater enemy, one that she had tried to avoid at all costs. Desperation alone drove her to the east, and it was that very desperation she couldn't afford to show, lest she be at the mercy of Russia.*

Notes

*Prime Minister Miklos Kallay, the second prime minister after Teleki, fled the country after the Germans occupied Hungary, leaving Dome Sztojay to take his place.

*Ignoring the governmet, Miklos Horthy signs an armistice with Russia, which will lead to consequences later.

(Geez, this fic really has a life of its own. I was sure Russia would appear in this chapter, but then he just toddles in and says, "Oh, don't mind me, I'll show up in the next chapter," and goes back to torturing Lithuania. So, remember to leave a review, and I promise, promise, _promise_ Russia will show up in the next chapter. Promise.)


	5. Chapter 5

The Daughter of Turul

By Shezners

Chapter 5*

Hungary stood alone in the middle of an empty field miles and miles away from Budapest. It was once a bountiful place, a place of growth and abundance. But the farmer had moved away from his field, and the crop began to decay until the land was barren and devoid of life. The dead field made Hungary uncomfortable as she shifted her feet nervously, trying to calm herself. Overhead, gray clouds rolled steadily across the sky, warning the inhabitants below of cold rain.

A sudden wind swept across the land, causing the nervous country to shiver and draw her coat closer to herself. It felt as though she had been waiting an eternity for Russia, and her impatience was getting to her. She was sure she had the right place and time, but she was still alone in the field, with nothing but a few mice and a forgotten scarecrow to keep her company. The minutes ticked by, and even a second felt like forever. Finally, she gave up. There was simply no point in waiting any longer. Just as she turned to leave and find a nice inn to stay at and warm her frigid toes, she heard him.

_Crunch…crunch…crunch…_

The sound of his heavy boots crushing the dead stalks seemed to resonate for miles, but only because Hungary knew of the man they belonged to. His steps drew closer and closer, and despite herself, Hungary found herself counting them.

"…three…four…five…six…"

She had gotten all the way up to forty-five, when the footsteps stopped. She could _feel_ Russia's sheer force standing behind her, and it nearly scared her out of her wits. He had become powerful, much more than before, and it would take every bit of her courage to make her request. Slowly, she turned around and smiled tightly at the enormous nation.

"_Szia*, _Russia."

Russia returned her smile with a childlike radiance.

"Hello to you too, Hungary."

Appearance-wise, Russia was a sight to behold. The turmoil of the war and his recent revolution had made him look bedraggled and fatigued. The water pipe that never left his side was scratched in several places, and had a nasty bend towards the middle. His light-brown traveling coat was ripped in several places and the front was splattered with blood. Whether it was his blood or someone else's, Hungary couldn't tell. Despite his decrepit state, he wore a smile that made Hungary's blood run cold. He wore his smile like a homeless man wore his only coat, keeping it pulled close to him for fear that some event would steal it away, and he would never smile again.

Hungary straightened her back and looked Russia in the eye. This was her last chance. If this was ruined, she would fall, most likely at the hands of the nation before her. She was frightened, but if she gave up here, she would lose more than her freedom. She would lose her pride, and that was something she was not willing to sacrifice.

"I'd like us to sign an armistice. This fighting has been going on for far too long, and I've had enough," Hungary stated, never once looking away from Russia's face. She wanted him to know she stood strongly, even though she had been through so much.

Russia's smile grew broader when he saw her determination.

"You know, Hungary," he chuckled in a light, jovial tone, "I don't have to give you any promises." His tone grew darker as he continued to speak.

"We're out here all alone in the middle of an abandoned field. I don't suppose you told anyone you would be here, did you? No, of course you didn't. Such a silly girl, Hungary. You were always such a silly girl."

Hungary knew she was trapped. She cursed herself for her foolishness. Of course she couldn't trust Russia! Why had she even tried? And now he would end her and all her misery because she was too blinded by desperation to see clearly.

Russia slowly raised his pipe, as if to strike her, and Hungary closed her eyes and stood her ground, determined not to run like a coward. She heard the bar of metal fly through the air, but instead of feeling the sickening thud of pipe meeting bone, she felt a light tap on the crown of her head. Startled, she looked up to find Russia smiling broadly at her, all traces of malice forgotten.

"My, you're so brave, Hungary!" Russia laughed his eyes twinkling with mirth. Hungary relaxed slightly, relived that she hadn't been struck, but still wary of the unpredictable nation.

"So…the armistice?" Hungary inquired, still nervous about Russia's intentions. The man simply smiled at her and nodded, and Hungary felt a great rush of air leave her body. She was so relieved she could barely keep standing. She just wanted to fall to the ground and laugh for hours, basking in the only luck she had had in many years. Instead, she gave Russia a brusque nod and turned to walk back to the city. But as soon as she turned her head, Russia caught her chin with his thick, rough fingers and forced her to look his way. All at once, he was entirely too close, and she could smell the vodka on his warm breath. Apparently his erratic mood was not entirely due to his usual nature.

"Say, Hungary," he murmured, "Why don't you become one with me?" Hungary gathered all her strength and push Russia back, staggering due to her own force, not to mention her fear.

"Never," she gasped, hating how she sounded so weak, but knowing that she had to say something.

Russia blinked at her, and stared for a long moment. For one tense moment, Hungary thought he would raise his pipe against her again. But instead, he did something much worse. He laughed.

It was the most disturbing, terrifying laugh she had ever heard in all her life. It seemed to freeze her very blood, and turn her feet into lead so she could not run. The mice fled the field and even the scarecrow seemed to wither in the mist of such an evil cackle. Finally, Russia ceased to laugh and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Oh, Hungary," he sighed, smiling calmly at her, "Don't you realize it? Everyone will become one with Russia. It's only a matter of time." Hungary said nothing. What could she say? Russia was powerful, more powerful that he had been in years. She could feel the inevitable going to happen. She could almost see his great Red Army sweeping through her lands, painting the ground crimson with blood and communism. Yet, she refused to give in so easily, so she looked him in the eye, and spoke the truth.

"I shall fight with all I have until that time comes."

And with that, she walked away, leaving Russia to stare at her back, the strong back that had survived for thousands of years, the scarred back that had withstood the loss of a worldwide war, and the stubborn back that he looked forward to breaking in the future.

As Hungary left, she swore she could here the sound of Russia chuckling on the wind. It sounded nothing like the laugh from before. It was calmer, quiter...and infinitely more sinister.

"Kolkolkolkolkolkolkol…"

Notes

*Ignoring the new government, Regent Miklos Horthy signs an armistice with Russia in order to save Hungary from Russia's mighty force

*_Szia_ – "Hello"

*Red Army – Communist armed forces in Russia, formed by the Bolsheviks during the Russian Civil War

Author's Note - Whew, I think this is my longest chapter yet! So, did you like it? Hate it? Wanna throw me off a cliff? Leave me a review! Germany's back in the next chapter. Will he discover Hungary's secret plan? Stay tuned to find out! (Or, y'know, go read a history book. Either way works.)


	6. Chapter 6

The Daughter of Turul

By Shezners

Chapter 6

Night had fallen on Budapest by the time Hungary returned. Gently falling snow softened the profile of the city, making it seem even for inviting to the exhausted country. She had walked for hours out of the countryside, and she was impossible weary, yet she had to remain vigilant. Once she arrived in the city, she would have to avoid the soldiers who would want to question her, regardless of her status. She pulled the hood of her coat over her head to hide her chestnut brown hair and began to creep her way home.

Along the way, she saw the faces of her people. They were as worn-down as she. Mothers stared at the empty rooms of their lost sons. Politicians with old ideals drowned their disappointment in liquor. Children looked on with curiosity and dread, wondering why the sky didn't seem as blue today, or why _Anya_1 doesn't smile anymore. Hungary thought grimly, 'The true toll of war is not the death of a country's soldiers, but the death of a country's spirit.'

She sighed with relief when she saw her home. She planned to lie down and sleep for days until she regained her strength and could fight full force. The war had worn her down, but she was not yet defeated. Her meeting with Russia had given her new hope. She opened her door, expecting to be greeted by silence, but instead, she was welcomed by a cold, hard voice.

"_Guten Abend, mein __Verräter_."2

Hungary froze. Thoughts raced through her mind as she stood facing her enemy. This couldn't be happening. How could he have known? She had been and careful as she possibly could, and yet…

Germany smiled his usual icy smile.

"Surprised, are you? Well, don't be. You know well I have spies everywhere, and that I have been watching your movements. So, you went to meet Russia, did you? How nice of you to pay our enemy a visit. Tell me, is he well?" At this point, Germany's somewhat cordial tone disintegrated one of venomous hate. "Are you really that much of a coward, Hungary? You would really sell yourself to the enemy to make a peace that won't last? Were you-"

Hungary interrupted him with a furious retort. "Don't you ever come in my house and insult me," she hissed, "I would never sell myself to anyone, unlike my corrupted officials that bowed down to make way for you. And since when has doing what's best for your people been cowardly. They can't take much more of this, Germany. Their spirits are dying! They've lost too many sons, seen too much blood. I'll be damned if I put them through more of the same!"

Germany was unmoved. "Obviously, the only problem here is with you. We'll see how rebellious you feel when you are on house arrest."

Hungary glared defiantly at him and drew herself up to her full height.

"You try it," she challenged, "I dare you to try."

Germany simply clapped his hands twice and, in an instant, two Gestapo3 burst through the door and seized Hungary before she even had time to move.

"Let go of me!" she screamed, kicking and biting with all of her strength. Germany looked at her struggle with disdain.

"I must tell you, Hungary" Germany warned, "You've gotten on my last nerve. Any more struggling from you and I shall have you eliminated."

Hungary spat, "Oh, I'm sure you would. Because the war is going _so _well for you, after all. So tell me, how's Italy doing? Still fighting the good fight?"4

For a moment, the wintry mask on Germany face shattered, and he was left with a pained expression, like he'd been stabbed by his truest friend. But the mask returned, even harder that before. He turned his back on his former ally, and waved his hand. The Gestapo nodded and began to drag Hungary away.

Before she was pulled though the door, she managed to shout one more thing at her former ally.

"You've gone mad. Why else would you expect the whole world to go mad with you?"

Then the door was shut, and Hungary's shouts were lost in the new-fallen snow.

Notes

1Anya – Mother

2_ Guten Abend, mein __Verräter – _Good evening, my traitor

3Gestapo – secret police of Nazi Germany

4Italy signed a secret armistice with the Allies on September 8, 1943 and many troops began to fight on the Allied side

Author's Note - Sorry for the wait. I was doing some summer projects for school, but now I'm back full force. This is the second to last chapter, so the next chapter is definitely el fin. Not to worry! I have more plot bunnies waiting in the wings, so don't touch that dial! Oh, and I've changed my footnotes system thanks to the advice of KD Nutjob (Thanks, dude!), so hopefully it won't be as random and confusing. So, please leave a review and I'll be seeing you in the next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

The Daughter of Turul

By Shezners

Chapter 7

Hungary listened to the sound of cold rain pelting the roof of the mansion. She had been lying immobile for longer than she cared to remember. Her house arrest had already been absolved, but she chose to stay in her prison, shut away from the world outside. She had no desire to leave her bay window, where weak streams of light illuminated the dusty room. She only wanted to sit in this room, frozen in time, because just outside of her window, her country was being destroyed. And she was powerless to stop it.

In truth, the war had been on her soil before she even returned to her capital(1). Russia, always quick to break his promises, had begun to advance his troops past her borders. The Red Army marched behind her, destruction and death left in their wake. By the time she reached Budapest, more than a thousand Russian troops had free reign of the countryside. She was so distracted by her eagerness to get home and her rage at being imprisoned, that she never heard of the assault until the day Germany came to visit her for the last time.

The snow had begun to melt that day, leaving puddles and piles of slush in the road and the fields beyond. Hungary had been in the process of smashing a mahogany chair out of anger and boredom when she heard a knock at the front door. Quickly brushing the wood chips out of her skirt, she hurried toward the door and opened in, feeling surprised when she saw it was Germany, and shock when she saw his appearance.

Germany looked like a dead man. His once-immaculate hair was disheveled and matted. Blood trickled down the side of his face and stained his ripped, wrinkled uniform. His boots were practically falling apart and caked an inch thick with mud and grass. His skin had a grey pallor, almost like a neglected gravestone. What frightened Hungary the most, though, were his eyes. True, she hated the coldness of hatred they used to harbor, a hatred that infused itself in all of Germany's actions and thoughts, but now that those eyes were empty, she almost wanted those icy stares back. She had never seen Germany's eyes without some sort of life, without _pride_, and her anger was wiped away at the sight of this broken man.

"Hungary," he began in a flat, drained voice, "you are hereby free to go. I am leaving your country post-haste."(2)

Hungary's eyes widened. "Leaving?" she asked, "But why? You have me right where you want me. Why the sudden change of heart?"

Germany gave her a look full of pity, a look that would have filled her with loathing had it been any other day, but today, all it did was fill her with fear.

"It's Russia, Hungary. He…he's sent his troops. The Red Army is on its way"

Hungary stared blankly, not wanting to comprehend what she had just heard. The Red Army. That merciless machine that had wiped out her soldiers during Operation Barbarossa. In her country. Marching on her fields. Killing her people.

She grabbed the front of Germany's tattered uniform and screamed, "Well then, stop them, you fool! Stop them now! Where is your grand empire, Germany? Where is your legion of pure soldiers? What happened to all that power, the power you used to put me under your thumb, huh? Where is it now?"

Germany hung limp as Hungary shook him. He simply could not find the strength inside of him to bark at her, to give orders, or to do much of anything. Finally, she let him go and turned away in disgust.

"Well then, what are you waiting for? Go!" she spat, barely able to contain her rage and grief.

As she turned to go back inside, she heard Germany's voice, barely a whisper.

"Hungary…do you think…we'll survive?"

Hungary said nothing. She simply shook her head and closed the door, shutting out the pain and strife of the world outside.

It was close to midnight when she began to hear them. She felt the vibrations of their marched through her entire body, even though the sound was faint.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. _

"Let them come," she thought dejectedly. "Let them destroy me. I don't care anymore. Everything has been taken from me anyway. What more can they take?"

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. _

The steady rhythm of the soldier's boots was almost soothing to hear. It could have lulled her to sleep, drifted forever and let her country fall silently…

But something different stirred inside her.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

She couldn't name it at first. It was a familiar feeling, like a smoldering coal left from a fire that had been burning all night. It spread slowly, starting in her heart, creeping up her neck, down her arms, all the way to the sole of her feet and the tips of her fingers.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The fire made her feel alive, like she could stand again. She got on her feet and dared to take a look out of her window. And that's when she saw him.

The falcon.

Turul.

He swooped magnificently overhead, wheeling and turning, brown feathers glowing brightly, as if illuminated by an internal sun. His sharp beak dangerously and threateningly, still rimmed with the blood of past conquest. Hungary could hardly believe her eyes. Was this a vision? Was this some ordinary falcon made to look mystical due to a trick of the light? Or was this truly Turul, her founder, her father, the bird that saved her and brought her people to this wonderful land?

Without any warning, the falcon swooped low and rush toward Hungary at an amazing speed. Startled, she tried the step out of his way, but to no avail. The falcon left a long, deep scratch on her cheek with his talon before turning towards the sky and disappearing into the rain.

Hungary put her hand to her injured cheek and stared at the landscape before her, not sure what to make of the encounter. Why had he injured her? Was he no longer on her side? Had Germany managed to take over her mythology, too? Sighing, she removed her hand from her face and look at her blood. She had been seeing too much of this blood lately. It had been spilled during suicide, death in battle and the various illnesses that plagued her people. But it was also miraculous blood. It was the blood of the Huns. It was the blood that conquered thousands and thousands of miles with mighty weapons and merciless hearts. It was the blood that faced challenge and hardships in order to find a place to call home. This blood defended that home against countless challenges, blood that had lasted for centuries. This was fighting blood, and it was meant to be shed in battle.

Realizing what her legendary falcon was trying to tell her, she grabbed her trusted frying pan and rushed out of the mansion, feeling the freezing rain strike her face. She could still hear the sounds of the Red Army approaching, but this time, it filled her with new vigor and the willpower to fight. As she ran, she heard a bloodcurdling cry. She saw Turul flying overhead, supporting her every step toward the enemy. She looked toward him and locked eyes for a brief moment, long enough for the falcon to give her a single command.

"Fight."

And fight she would. The odds were overwhelmingly against her and in her mind, she knew she would lose, but her heart would not hear such talk. She would fight with all of the strength she had left. She would fight for her people. She would fight for her beloved Austria. She would fight for the country Germany was and would be again. Most of all, she would fight for her freedom long after the war, until the land her people had cherished for generations was hers and hers alone.

With one last cry, she threw herself into the enemy's midst, and was lost to the red tide.

~A Vég~ (3)

Notes

1In September, Russia moved their troops into Hungary before the armistice was even announced.

2Many of the Germany forces retreated and sacked Hungary's railroads and fields during their retreat. Still, others stayed to defend Budapest, but lost to the Russian troops.

3A Vég – The End

Author's Note – Wow. Just wow. This chapter took me forever. I kept starting and stopping and trying to do all sorts of stuff, but in the end, I think it turned out pretty good. And thus, this concludes The Daughter of Turul, and my first fanfiction! Hooray!

Edit- Whoops, I almost forgot to thank all of my reviewers! You guys have all been wonderful, and to be quite honest, I don't think I would have finished this story had it not been for your thoughtful feedback. Every compliment and correction has helped me better my writing, and I couldn't be more grateful. Thank you SO much! 3

So, I'd really like to hear your thoughts on what I did well, what was okay, what sucked, etc. so please leave me a review. I'm doing a little Austria/Hungary oneshot next, so stay tuned! ~Shez


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